Thoughts On & After: The Midnight Library by Matt Haig
9 Jun 2024
No spoilers ahead. There are also several quotes from the book (like the one you see below) in this piece; you may skip those and move to the parts you wish to read.
But then the tree — the tree that is our life — develops branches. And think of all those branches, departing from the trunk at different heights. And think of all those branches, branching off again, heading in often opposing directions. Think of those branches becoming other branches, and those becoming twigs. And think of the end of each of those twigs, all in different places, having started from the same one. A life is like that, but on a bigger scale. New branches are formed every second of every day. And from our perspective — from everyone’s perspective — it feels like a… like a continuum. Each twig has travelled only one journey. But there are still other twigs. And there are also other todays. Other lives that would have been different if you’d taken different directions earlier in your life. This is a tree of life.
A warning before we actually jump into this piece: I don’t have anything significant to write as a ‘book review’ this time. But this book gave me enough food for thought so that I could actually sit down and write something after a gap of two long months. As I look back, I spoke a lot and spent a lot of time at home, but from time to time I must write. The break was because I didn’t feel a strong urge to write about anything. Everything has been resolved, and there’s not much to think about or figure out, nor am I trying to find the answer to something.
I’ve also started to live and operate in my life intuitively — if I feel like doing something or not doing something, I do or don’t do it, without thinking about it too much. As Matt in the book likes to call it, “the only way to experience life is to live it,” I guess that happened with me and is happening with me.
More than anything, I liked the concept of the book because it built upon my last piece and what I had been thinking: IAW.
Everyone goes through phases in life when they think, “What would happen if this had happened? How would life have turned out?” In the book, there’s a suicidal lady, Nora, who takes her life and enters a library lined with tons of books. Each book contains a version of life that could have possibly turned out had she made different decisions in her past. As she enters each book, she can actually live the version of that alternate life, but she’ll retain the memory of her real life, so she’ll have to figure out what happens in that version, fit, act and live accordingly. Others don’t know this is the real Nora; for them, she’s the version of Nora they had already known in that particular version. Nora travels through all the other versions and, in an amazing horror movie-esque climax, comes to certain conclusions about life and herself.
I was actually planning to finish the last bit of the book tomorrow, but the last bit is an absolute page-turner, and I couldn’t put it down. The story picks up initially, goes fairly predictably in the middle, and picks up again at the end, both pace-wise and quality-wise.
Come to think of it, what were the chances of me writing this review with a glass of milk that I’m sipping on a Sunday night? What were the chances of you clicking or scrolling your device screen to read this? We’re presented with many decisions each day and an equal number of scenarios. We’re all a compilation of the decisions we took over time, and here we are.
I suppose. Yes. Ash. The surgeon. The one who found Volts.
Who once asked me out for coffee. Years ago. When I was with Dan. I’d said no, well, because I was with Dan. But what if I hadn’t been? What if I had broken up with Dan and gone on that coffee date and had dared, on a Saturday, with all the shop watching, to say yes to a coffee? Because there must be a life in which I was single in that moment and where I’ said what I wanted to say. Where I said, “Yes, I would like to go for a coffee sometime, Ash, that would be lovely.” Where I picked Ash. I’d like to have a go at that life. Where would that have taken me?’
I sometimes think, what were the chances of being where I am today? Why am I not in a different city? Why was I born in this country? How did I end up in the work that I do or the college where I study? It’s an endless loop, and one can spend their whole life recollecting all the memories and the times when they had to make a decision.
In one life a cat-sitter. In one life a volunteer in a homeless shelter. In one life she was sleeping on her only friend’s sofa. In one life she taught music in Montreal. In one life she spent all day arguing with people she didn’t know on Twitter and ended a fair proportion of her tweets by saying ‘Do better’ while secretly realising she was telling herself to do that. In one life she had no social media accounts. In one life she’d never drunk alcohol. In one life she was a chess champion and currently visiting Ukraine for a tournament. In one life she was married to a minor Royal and hated every minute. In one life her Facebook and Instagram only contained quotes from Rumi and Lao Tzu. In one life she was on to her third husband and already bored. In one life she was a vegan power-lifter.
Nora travels through many other lives in the book. Some versions of her story are great, but some are not. As mentioned above, I think it’s a phase in life when someone thinks of the alternate versions, going in thought loops. But one needs to be reminded that there’s no alternate version; this is what it is. Just like when we have a tendency to compare ourselves with others, until we make a complete swap with their lives, it’s not a fair comparison. We see a certain version of each person, and we show a certain version of ourselves to others (consciously or sub-consciously), but there’s a great deal of things that we miss. It’s nearly impossible to know someone 100%.
The book scatters mentions of several great songs, artists, books, and philosophers throughout. Great job on that.
Another stream of thoughts:
These days, every situation for me is a constant. Here’s an example: my last trip was to Bombay for three days. While leaving for the trip, I had already imagined that I was back from the trip and, when I returned, the next afternoon I would be working at my desk. I love the time spent traveling or speaking with friends, but somehow I always end up thinking of the very next moment after the event. Since the variables are fairly predictable, my prediction is accurate, as long as something doesn’t go off track.
This hasn’t stopped me from going on my expeditions; it’s just that the feelings associated have been more stable. After attending a concert, I was taking a local train to Byculla from Kurla and ended up on the harbour line train instead of the central line (my bad, when asking for directions, I asked for CST, and a gentleman was technically right). The train was slow, and a thought came: what if a ticket checker catches me? Maybe five years ago, I would have been startled, but now I was more stable in dealing with the situation.
Remember what Hugo said? He told you that this is the simplest way your brain translates the strange and multifarious reality of the universe. So, this is just your brain translating something.
I don’t know what to call feeling like this though. I think it’s equally natural because the brain is a prediction machine and humans are wired to seek stability (most of them, at least). Also, if you apply frequency illusion for my brain thoughts, that’s where I am.. I guess.
So when does all of this end? We really don’t know. I guess books by Taleb will give some more answers on that front, which I haven’t read any.
What does it feel like when you’re gone? What does it feel like now, and why does it feel that way? What would it have felt like if I had been a golden retriever?
Another question that actually struck me on a trip from April: it must feel the same as I’m feeling now when things are gone. I mean, what I’m feeling now is something similar to what I was feeling at any point in the past. Say when I was 10 years old or even a year ago. But I know technically I’m wrong here. Feelings change, and our brain’s wiring and pulses change from time to time depending on situations.
One more realization that has only come in the last three years:
As I was growing up, everything revolved around me, and I was the central character in everything. But only later, as the context increased and the number of variables, people, and situations increased, I realized that I am playing a small part in this universe. Others feel and think differently than me, also something I realized on the April (ahem) trip.
I won’t say this has given me more confidence in life, but coming to terms with this fact has certainly given me more peace. I can now relate more to a lot of things and know how to deal with them, because everything isn’t in my hands.
What I also know, in the end, it all goes well, in most cases… I think.
What sometimes feels like a trap is actually just a trick of the mind. She didn’t need a vineyard or a Californian sunset to be happy. She didn’t even need a large house and the perfect family. She just needed potential. And she was nothing if not potential. She wondered why she had never seen it before.
Who do you think you are in a parallel universe?
Maybe there was no perfect life for her, but somewhere, surely, there was a life worth living. And if she was to find a life truly worth living, she realised she would have to cast a wider net.
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